


Decorations of Red

by romanticalgirl



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 06:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: Despite all signs to the contrary, Bucky's not an elf. But Steve definitely is sticking with old traditions.





	Decorations of Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roe87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roe87/gifts).



Bucky sighs heavily and scratches his head underneath the hat Sam had knit for him. It has a ridiculously large pom pom on top, because Sam is an asshole, but it’s warmer than the other option, which is not wearing one at all. 

“Excuse me, mister? Are you an elf?”

Bucky looks down at the small child in front of him. She looks like something out of a Christmas movie, right down to the pink puffy jacket and snowflakes on her eyelashes. Bucky expects Julie Andrews to appear at any moment. “What?”

“Are you an elf? You work here, right? So are you an elf?”

Precocious children. All Bucky asks is that the universe keeps his life free of them, and yet here he is. “I sell the trees.”

“But are you an elf?”

“We’re totally elves.” Clint walks up and puts his arm around Bucky’s shoulders. Clint is actually wearing an elf costume, including jingly hat and shoes. Bucky does his level best to pretend he doesn’t know him. It hasn’t worked so far. “This is grumpy elf.”

“Grumpy’s a dwarf.” She crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “I don’t think you’re elves. I think you’re liars.”

Bucky squats down, out from under Clint’s arm and so he can look the kid in the eye. “You shouldn’t call people liars.”

“What if they lie?”

“Gabby, what are you doing?” A pair of legs that are all strong calves and thick thighs accompany whoever says that, followed by a slim waist, a broad chest and really, really, really unreal eyes. They’re mostly blue, with green and brown flecks, and the lashes are the kind that women in mascara commercials try to get. “Sorry. She got away from me.”

“Uncle Steve, he’s a liar.”

“Gabby. What’d we say about that? You can’t call people names. It’s mean.” 

“He said he’s an elf.”

Clint cuts Bucky off. “Technically I said he was an elf, so if anyone’s lying it’d be me. But I’m not. Bucky, do magic.”

Bucky’s pretty sure he can think of a place or two no one would find Clint’s body. “I’m not allowed to do magic outside the North Pole, _Clint_. You know Santa gets upset when we break the rules.” Bucky straightens up, and the blue-eyed beefcake does as well. He grabs the little girl by her forearm and swings her up on his shoulders. 

The guy’s biceps bulge, but he acts like she doesn’t weigh anything. Jesus Christ, Bucky’s going to have an orgasm right there, and it’s going to freeze his dick to his underwear and it’ll be like the goddamned _Christmas Story_. He’s going to need the fire department to come out, and he’s going to have a bandage or a cast on his dick.

Not that the thought of the fire department coming out for his dick would necessarily be a bad thing. He’s seen some of those calendars.

He realizes Uncle Steve, Gabby, and Clint are all staring at him. “What?”

“I said maybe you could help them find a tree. Or I could ask Nat the elf to do it. I bet she’d be happy to.” 

“No. I can do it.” He leans in to Clint, making sure his hearing aids are on. “I was going to make it look like natural causes, but now you’re going to suffer, Barton.”

Uncle Steve looks from one of them to the other. “That’s okay. We can find one ourselves.”

Bucky pulls back, shakes his head, and puts on his biggest, fakest, elf-iest smile. “Absolutely not. Santa wants the elves to be good boys and girls too. What kind of tree are you looking for? We have Norway spruce, blue spruce, frasier fir, douglas fir, noble fir, balsam fir. The balsam smells the best and keeps its needles the longest. But if you have a lot of dangling ornaments, the noble would probably be your best bet.”

“We only have traditional stuff. Uncle Steve and I make paper chains and string popcorn.”

“How very hipster.” Bucky says it under his breath, but if the snort of laughter Uncle Steve gives him is any indication, he heard him. Shit. Bucky’s going to lose this sale and Hill is going to fire his elf-ass.

“I grew up poor. It was all we had. I guess it is pretty hipster.”

“Shit. Shoot. Crap.” Bucky sighs. There goes the commission on the tree and his job. “No. Man. I didn’t mean that. I mean. I’m going to shut up now.”

Uncle Steve -- and really, his name is probably just Steve -- smiles at Bucky, and Bucky’s pretty sure his heart stops only to start beating again at about triple time. “No, it’s okay. Gabby’s heard me say worse. Heard her Uncle Tony say worse.”

Uncle Tony probably means Uncle Steve is married. Bucky can’t see a ring, but Steve’s wearing heavy gloves. “Uncle Tony gets in a lot of trouble with Auntie Pepper,” Gabby informs him. “Daddy too.”

“That’s quite a… family?”

“Rhodey, that’s Gabby’s dad, is stationed overseas right now. He and Tony met at MIT, and Tony and I have been friends since high school. None of us are actual family, but…”

“You are too.” Gabby lets her heel slam into Steve’s -- really fucking impressive -- chest. “Don’t say that or I’ll tell Daddy and Uncle Tony on you.”

“But we kind of all chose each other, so.” Steve shrugs. “And, wow. You probably don’t want to know any of this.”

“No. It’s interesting. When I’m not being an elf, I’m studying to be a counselor. I’m always interested in found families. I sort of have one of my own.” 

Steve’s answer gets cut off by Gabby smacking Steve on the top of his head. “That one.”

Steve looks to where Gabby is pointing and laughs softly. “Honey, that would fit in Uncle Tony’s house. It’s probably actually bigger than mine.”

“But I like it.”

“Sorry, kiddo. Let’s look for something less imposing, huh? Think if my tree was the size of Uncle Tony.”

“His is the size of you.” Gabby starts giggling and squirming on Steve’s shoulders. Bucky very much does not graphically think of his own legs over Steve’s shoulders, because that would be so very wrong on so many levels. “Bigger.”

“Definitely bigger.”

“But size doesn’t matter.” Bucky says. Steve glances at him and smiles, and that smile is going to be the death of Bucky. Probably really, really soon if he gets hit with it again. 

“Eh. It has its place.” Steve bites his lower lip, and Bucky worries about his dick freezing again. Steve drops his eyes down, a barely there glance at Bucky’s crotch. 

“Um. Yeah.” He knows the red on his face has nothing to do with the biting cold. “Smaller. Um. Trees. Over here.” He nearly trips over the base of one of the trees, but Steve’s hand shoots out and grabs Bucky’s arm, holding him upright. “Thanks.”

“Careful.”

Bucky’s pretty sure that where Steve’s concerned, he’s already forgotten the meaning of careful.

*

They find the perfect tree, and where normally Bucky would haul it up to the netter, Steve hoists it over one shoulder, one large hand around the trunk and the other holding Gabby’s hand. Bucky is useless, just walking slightly behind in case the tree should drop. Which means, given the fact that in the plaid flannel he sees under Steve’s bulky green coat he looks like a lumberjack, Bucky’s not going to have anything to do.

Bucky runs the tree through the netter, slicing through the netting with a large knife. He ties it off and stands the tree up. “I can carry this to your car for you if you’re ready to go or if you want to go inside and get some cocoa or something, I can just put your name on it.”

“That’d be great.”

“So Steve…”

“Rogers.” He holds his hand out and Bucky stares at it for a moment before reaching out and shaking it. “Steve Rogers.”

“Bucky Barnes.”

“Nice to meet you, Bucky. I’d better let you get back to work before Santa puts me on the naughty list for distracting you. Thanks for all your help.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Absolutely. My pleasure.” He watches them walk into the small shop where there are crafts and handmade ornaments and an old-fashioned hot chocolate machine. He starts when a hand claps on his shoulder, not turning to look at Clint until Steve and his amazing ass disappear inside. “Holy shit.”

“Aww. Did Santa bring Bucky the Elf what he wanted for Christmas?”

“Santa showed Bucky the Elf what he can’t have. Because he is not only out of my league, I’m pretty sure he’s out of my universe. Did you _see_ him?”

“I did.” Clint nods. “I wonder how he’d feel about banging a straight guy.”

“You’re not straight if you want him to bang you, Clint.” Bucky shrugs off Clint’s hand again. “Besides, maybe he’s a straight guy.”

“No way is he straight. Did you _see_ him?” Clint shakes his head. “He is gay as a cocktail napkin. Maybe bi.”

“Why are cocktail napkins gay?”

Clint just stares at him. “You’re seriously asking me that?”

“Y--” 

Bucky is cut off by another hand on his shoulder, nails digging in as Maria Hill steps into the space between him and Clint. “I know you’re not both just standing here talking. Because there are trees to sell and people to make happy, and if you’re not interested in being my little helpers, I bet I can find a couple of people who are _real_ quick.”

Clint nods and salutes. “Aye, aye, Santa.”

She tosses her head so the fuzzy white ball on her hat flips to the other side. Bucky nods. “Yeah. Trees to sell.”

*

They close the tree lot for the night, Bucky and Nat working one side of the fencing while Maria and Clint work the other until they can lock the two halves together. Bucky takes off his gloves and shoves them in one pocket and pulls another pair out of the other. His work gloves are covered with sap and needles, and he has no desire to walk home with sticky hands. 

“Need a ride home?” Nat asks, linking her arm through Bucky’s. “I have Sam’s car.”

“Nah. The subway ride’s not bad this time of night, but traffic sucks. I’ll catch you tomorrow, okay?” He plucks her hat off, bends down, and presses a kiss to the top of her head. She elbows him hard in the stomach. “I love you too, Nat.”

She flips him off, then she, Maria, and Clint all wave goodbye. Bucky lives the opposite direction of the three of them, so accepting a ride would have prolonged their night significantly. And, like he’d said, the subway isn’t bad at this time of night, and it’s marginally warmer. 

Of course that just makes it worse when he goes back up to the street level and gets hit by a blast of frigid air. He wishes he’d brought a scarf. Or owned one. He’d had one, but he’d given it to the guy who sometimes lived in the alley by his building. Along with a coat, three pairs of socks, and the one non-Sam-made hat he owned.

He needs to remember to buy socks.

He turns the corner and heads up the sidewalk to his building, stopping at the base of the stoop and staring. Gabby, the little girl from the lot, is standing there, eyes narrowed and arms crossed again. 

“See! I knew you weren’t an elf!”

“Why are you at my apartment building?”

“Elves live at the North Pole!”

Bucky is tired and sore and being yelled at by someone who might not be old enough for kindergarten. He inhales, sucking in cold air and then coughing it all out. Gabby stares at him, her eyes full of judgement and possibly betrayal. “Santa lets us live down here during the season. Saves time on the commute.”

“You are the most stubborn asshole I’ve ever met, Rogers. I don’t know how I ever fucking put up with you! I don’t know how _anyone_ puts up with you, except you do know how to fuck. You’ve got that going for you.”

Steve’s mouth is in a tight line, and the muscle in his jaw is jumping. “I promise that if I find anything else of yours, Warren, I’ll set it on fire. That way you won’t have to deal with me.” 

The guy moves past Bucky, using the box in his hand to shove him out of the way. It’s only by grabbing the fence next to the stoop that Bucky manages to stay on his feet. He stares after him, then looks up at Steve who is kneeling beside Gabby. 

“Hey, why’d you come out here, sweetie?”

“Warren was being mean. And he asked how he was supposed to be with you when you were busy with me instead of him.” She looks her age all of a sudden, something lost in her voice. “I didn't want to be the reason you were sad.”

“Oh, Gabs.” Steve takes her in his arms and holds her close in a tight hug before he pulls back and looks her in the eyes. “Anyone who doesn’t want to be with me because you’re in my life isn’t worth being with. You’re one of the best things in my life, and if they can’t realize how great you are and how much I love you, then I don’t want them or need them.”

She sniffs and her dark eyes are wide. “Promise?”

“Promise.” He kisses her forehead and despite the cold, Bucky thinks he’s melting. “Why don’t you go inside and change into your pajamas. We’ll bundle up on the couch and watch movies.”

“I’m not supposed to stay up that late.”

Steve looks to the right and then to the left. He blinks, startled to see Bucky there, as if he hadn’t noticed him until now. “I’m not going to tell. Are you going to tell?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“And Bucky over there.” Steve tilts his head in Bucky’s direction. “He’s not going to tell, is he?”

Bucky shakes his head, then shrugs. “Well. I’m going to tell Santa, but only so he understands why you’re staying up past your bedtime and doesn’t put you on the naughty list by accident.”

Steve smiles, not quite as brightly as earlier, and when he looks back at Gabby, his eyes linger for a moment in the direction the guy had gone. “See? Secret’s safe. Go one. Snuggle the big blue blanket and I’ll be up in a minute.”

She nods and hugs him and darts inside. As soon as she’s up the first flight of stairs, Steve leans back against the door jamb and blows out a breath. “Fuck. Asshole.”

“Ex?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. He’s still an asshole.” His lips tick up in a smile. “Did you stop to check on Gabby?”

“No, not exactly.” Bucky nods toward the building. “I live here.”

“Here.” Steve’s eyebrows both go up. “Here, here.”

“Yup.” He walks up the stairs and moves by Steve before pulling him inside and shutting the door. It’s still cold, but better. That doesn’t stop Bucky from shivering. “I take it you do too?”

“Yeah. I just… Just moved in a couple days ago.”

“Oh. Oh shit!” Bucky laughs. “You’re five-E. I didn’t think they’d ever rent that place out.”

“I keep hearing that.”

“I’m down the hall from you. Nine-E. And don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. Just one of those weird things where they can’t keep anyone in the apartment. They sign a six-month lease, and every time, they’ve had something life-altering happen at the six-month mark so they don’t renew the lease.”

“Ah. That explains Mr. Coulson not budging on the year lease.”

“It took him a while, but apparently he learned.” They get to the fifth floor and Bucky slows as they reach Steve’s door. “Well. Welcome, neighbor.”

“Thanks.” Steve smiles and Bucky realizes that, out of the cold, he can see the smattering of freckles across Steve’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

He realizes he’s staring about the time Steve looks like he’s going to repeat his question. “I work tomorrow until seven. Why?”

“Well, Gabby and I were going to make dinner and then string popcorn and glue paper chains. If you’re hungry.”

“You want a third pair of hands, is that what you’re saying?”

Steve flushes and Bucky wonders if he’s ever been charmed. Or smitten. Because he’s pretty sure that’s what this is. He’s been in lust and he’s been horny, and he’s even been in love before, but he has never, ever reacted to someone the way he is to Steve. “Hey, you convinced me to get a bigger tree than I planned. It’s only fair.”

“Fair, huh?” Bucky tries to keep his face serious, but he breaks out into a grin instead. “You’d better have a lot of popcorn. I’ll probably eat more than I string.”

*

Bucky doesn’t know why he doesn’t mention the fact that Steve’s his neighbor to anyone at the tree lot. Admittedly, he’s not working with Clint and Natasha, but still. Normally he’d at least be talking about having a date. Of course he’s not sure if it’s a date, given that Gabby’s going to be there. 

But he thinks Steve’s blush hints at date. Or potential dating. 

Not that Bucky’s any kind of expert. He usually jumps from relationship to relationship with less dating and more fucking involved. Natasha calls him a serial monogamist in the most derogatory way possible. He thinks it has more to do with the lack of time between the stints of monogamy than anything else.

 

Steve seems like the kind of guy that dates. Steve seems like the kind of guy who buys wine and flowers and doesn’t even bother to change the sheets, because he totally doesn’t expect the night to end with him fucking someone into the mattress. 

Bucky may not always be good at identifying if someone’s into guys, but he’s confident enough in his ability to figure out if the guy does the fucking, gets fucked, or is willing to switch off. Warren totally received. And Steve Rogers looks like he gives good and hard. 

Shit. He really needs to curb the erections in the freezing cold and negative wind chill. At least he remembered to buy a scarf on his break. Business is brisk -- ha -- despite the weather, and Bucky’s almost warm from running around the lot, moving trees, and because of the large heaters Maria has by the netter. 

Clint, Natasha, and Sam show up about ten minutes before the end of Bucky’s shift, waiting for him at the opened gate. Bucky switches his gloves again and looks at the three of them suspiciously. “What?”

“Impromptu kidnapping.”

“Nope.” Bucky shakes his head. “I have plans.”

“You never have plans,” Natasha reminds him. “Unless you found a new sugar daddy. Tell me you didn’t go to that bar last night, James.”

“I went home last night. But I have plans with a friend.”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to look suspicious. “You don’t have friends who aren’t us.”

“I do too.”

Clint shakes his head. “Dude. No you don’t.”

Bucky sighs. “There’s a new guy in my apartment building. We ran into each other, got to talking. He invited me to dinner.” All three of them groan. “What? What’s that mean?”

“Because,” Natasha says. “Dinner is James Barnes code for having sex before the night ends.”

“No it isn’t! It’s just dinner.”

“Mark. Jeff.”

“Dave. Jackson.”

“Thomas. That ill-fated night with Beth.”

Bucky glares at all three of them in turn. “Fuck each and every one of you.”

Natasha grins. “Dinner first?”

“We’re just having dinner. We’re not going to fuck. We’re not going to _kiss_. We’re going to eat and talk and then I’m going to go home. Alone.” They all make vague noises of disbelief. Bucky hates his friends. “I’ll see you guys later. Assuming I’m horribly unlucky.”

All three of them start blowing him kisses as he walks away and Bucky flips them all off. He keeps walking, them threatening to tell Santa making him smile all the way to the subway.

*

Steve opens the door and smiles at Bucky. Bucky just stares for a moment. “Do you do toothpaste commercials?”

Steve’s brow furrows. “Pardon?”

“Shit. Did I say that out loud. I did not mean to do that. Pretend I didn’t do that.”

Steve’s mouth twitches, obviously amused. “Well, to answer the question you didn’t ask, no.”

“Right. Of course. Well.” His entire body feels like it’s on fire. 

“Did you want to come in?”

“Well.” He nods. “It’d probably be weird for me to eat in the hall, right?”

“A little. Guess you’d better come in.” Steve steps back and Bucky walks in. It’s the same layout as his apartment. There’s a couch that’s too big for the room, three boxes serving as a coffee table, a dining room table with three mismatched chairs, and a huge TV.

He probably has a bed, but Bucky is very steadfastly not thinking about that. Which is good, since Gabby chooses that moment to peek over the kitchen counter. 

“You smell like Christmas trees.”

“I do. Oh, crap. I do. I should go change.”

“I like the smell.” 

Bucky’s pretty sure that that voice, combined with Steve’s smile is going to be his cause of death. He wonders what the epitaph would be.

“Do elves even _like_ spaghetti?”

Bucky smiles at Gabby, though he does have to clench his fist to help keep his voice light. “Well, I can’t speak for all elves, but this one does.”

She looks disappointed.

“Sorry,” Steve says softly. “She’s missing her dad. He was supposed to be home tomorrow, but it’s been delayed.”

“I can go.” Bucky offers. “If she wants one on one time with you.”

“Oh, no. She’s being this way with me too. Here. Let me take your coat.”

“Careful. It’s my tree coat. Very sappy.”

Steve hangs it up on the handle of the door, then goes into the kitchen. Bucky leans against the counter and watches as Steve turns the stove on and sets a pan of water on to boil. The sauce is already cooking on the back burner, filling the room with the smells of garlic and oregano. After a moment, Steve turns around and looks down at Gabby. “Go put on _Home Alone_.” He helps her to her feet. “But don’t get any ideas. Or give any to Uncle Tony.”

“Uncle Tony already has all the ideas.” She goes into the living room and gets the movie started, practically disappearing into the couch.

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose her in that? Not find her until you’re digging around for loose change to tip the pizza guy?”

Steve laughs, and Bucky has to straight-up admit that he’s in love. “Pretty sure her dad would notice she was missing before that.” He snaps the long noodles in half, then feeds them into the boiling water. “So, what do you do when you’re not selling Christmas trees? Make toys? Add names to the naughty and nice lists? Remove Bumble teeth?”

“Well, just between you and me?” He leans in and Steve does the same, so Bucky gets a whiff of something clean -- fresh air or laundry soap. “I’m just a part-time elf.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Just during school breaks. Santa’s really big on us getting a good education.”

“Counseling, right?”

Bucky smiles what he knows must be a ridiculous smile He can’t help the hope that warms him at the thought that this guy remembers what Bucky’s going to school for even though they barely know each other. “Yeah. My friend, Sam, works for the VA. He got me a job as the janitor there, and I saw what he and the other vets did. I’ve never been in combat, so I don’t think I could help them, but I could help other people.”

Steve flashes a smile at Bucky, not watching as he uses a wooden fork to separate the noodles. “That’s nice. I mean, nice isn’t the right word. Admirable. Wanting to help others.”

“What about you? What do you do when you’re not being an awesome uncle?”

“How do you know that awesome uncle isn’t my full-time job?”

“I don’t. That’s very true.” Bucky nods, and he’s still grinning. He’s not sure he’s ever going to stop. “You seem to be really good at it. Probably a trained professional, huh?”

“Totally self-taught. Well, with a little help from Gabby.”

“Uncle Steve, I’m _starving_.”

“Speak of the devil,” Steve says softly before quirking an eyebrow. “Well, we can eat now if you don’t want garlic bread.”

Her head pops over the arm of the couch, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t threaten me.”

“How old is this kid?” Bucky asks on a laugh.

“Six going on fourteen. Pretty sure she’s going to totally skip the pre-teen years.” He gives Gabby a smile. “I take it we’re going with garlic bread?”

She slumps back down into the couch and Bucky watches Steve’s hand as he stirs the pasta. “Can I help at all?”

“Not sure the kitchen’s big enough for both of us. You want something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“Beer, soda, water, orange juice, milk, chocolate milk.”

“That’s _mine_.” Gabby’s head pops up again, and she’s still glaring. “He can’t have any.”

“We’ve talked about sharing.”

“Sharing means I get it back.”

“Not always.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky assures them both. “I’ll just take a water.”

“You sure?” Steve looks worried. “Don’t let her threaten you. Pretty sure you could take her in a fair fight.”

“ _Pretty_ sure?” Steve shrugs and Bucky smiles at him. “And why wouldn’t it be a fair fight?”

“Kids are sneaky.” He gets out a bottle of water as well as the butter and garlic. He hands Bucky the water, then digs through a drawer until he pulls out an actual garlic press. Bucky stands there and watches the muscles in Steve’s arms and back moving as he peels the garlic.

“I didn’t know anyone actually owned one of those.”

“Careful or I’ll make you do it. Smelliest job.”

“Given how much garlic I already smell, I’m beginning to wonder if you’re worried that I’m a vampire.”

“Mm.” Steve hums noncommittally and puts the cloves of garlic into the press. “Do me a favor? Grab one of the bowls in there?” He gestures to a cabinet with a nod.

“Sure.” Bucky comes around the counter, and there really isn’t enough room for both of them. Bucky grabs a bowl and Steve smiles. Because he’s apparently trying to kill Bucky and take the tips he earned loading trees. “Does being an awesome uncle pay well? And better than just an uncle?”

“Pay sucks. Benefits are great. Could you open the butter?”

Bucky has to move around Steve to get it and the kitchen _really_ isn’t big enough for both of them. He practically boosts himself up on the counter to move behind Steve without rubbing up against him.

He hands the bowl Bucky had gotten down to him. “Put it in there and put it in the microwave for thirty seconds at half-power.”

“Are you a chef or something?”

“Carpenter.”

“Huh?”

“I’m a carpenter.”

“Like Jesus,” Gabby says loudly.

Steve blushes, and Bucky ducks his head to hide his smile as he pulls the bowl out of the microwave. “Now what?”

Steve lifts his cutting board and scrapes half of the garlic into the bowl. “Another thirty at half-power please.”

As soon as it beeps, Bucky takes it out carefully. “What else can I do?”

“Do you want to stir the sauce or do the bread?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure stirring is in my cooking repertoire, so I’ll stick with what I know.”

“Uncle Steve. Now I’m even _more_ starving.”

“You can start with salad.”

“You're the meanest.”

“I have to admit,” Bucky says, determined to get on the child’s good side. “I’m a little hungry too.”

“Do you need to go watch the movie as well?” Steve tries to look stern and fails miserably.

“No elves allowed!” Gabby shouts.

Steve shakes his head and grabs a bag of dinner rolls. He lays them all out on a pan, then uses a brush to coat them with the melted garlic butter. Once that’s done, he loads them with the remaining garlic.

“I’m pretty sure that bread is considered pornography in seven states.”

“You watch some weird pornography. But just wait until you’re done. At least eleven states.” Steve bends over to put the rolls in the oven and Bucky has to swallow hard. He’s known Steve had a nice ass, but in tight, faded denim and bent over, it’s a work of art.

Even worse though is the fact that it’s about three inches away from him, and all Bucky wants to do is grab it.

Well. Maybe that’s not _all_.

“Okay. Ten minutes. Time to set the table, Gabby.”

She sighs heavily and climbs off the couch. Steve hands her plates, bowls, and silverware. He asks Bucky to get the drinks as he drains the pasta. A few moments later, he comes out with salad, then noodles and sauce. After that, while Gabby and Bucky start serving themselves, Steve walks in with the bowl of melted butter stuffed with the rolls fresh from the oven.

“Wow.”

“Uncle Steve makes the goodest garlic bread.”

“Best, not goodest,” Steve correct gently.

“Bestest.” She gives Steve a grin and he smiles back at her and shakes his head. 

 

“You hang around your uncle Tony too much.” 

“He says I hang around you too much.” She shrugs, then takes a bite of her bread. She’s effectively ignoring Bucky, and he’s actually okay with it. He very much has no idea what to do with children. And with her keeping Steve’s attention, Bucky can watch him without worrying.

The food is good, and Steve’s smiling, and Bucky is way too relaxed. Gabby is a mess by the time she’s finished. Steve sends her to clean herself up and get into her pajamas.

Steve starts cleaning up, and Bucky gets up to help. “I can wash the dishes.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’ve got it. You need to get into your pajamas.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s a rule.”

“Oh. Well, I sleep in the nude, so…”

“Oh.” Steve’s eyes go wide and he swallows. “Well, do you have, um, sweats? Or shorts? Or something?”

“Yeah. I can… I’ll just… Okay. I’ll be right back.” He grabs his jacket and goes to his apartment. Taking a deep breath, he gives himself a pep talk. “Okay. Pajama-type clothes, and you just told him you sleep naked. That was probably… oh Christ.”

He considers not leaving the apartment.

Ever again.

Instead he changes into an old pair of sweats, a faded T-shirt, and his thickest pair of socks. He walks back to Steve’s apartment and knocks. Steve opens the door and he’s dressed in a T-shirt that stretches tight across his chest, and a pair of old, faded, light blue pajama pants that fit him. _Very_ well.

“These okay?” Bucky holds his arms out and turns around slowly.

“Perfect.” Steve steps back and lets Bucky come back inside. The smell of popcorn overlays the garlic. “Go settle down, and I’ll be right back.”

Bucky goes to the couch where Gabby is sitting in bright yellow footie pajamas. She glares at him and he wrinkles his nose in response and mouths the word ‘naughty.” She takes a deep breath, exhales, narrows her eyes and gives him the fakest smile he’s ever seen. He takes it as a win though when Steve smiles at them before disappearing into the kitchen to tend to the popcorn.

Bucky sits on the end of the couch opposite Gabby. He sinks into the cushions like he expected to. It’s comfortable as hell, and he decides he’s never leaving. Ever.

Steve comes in a few minutes later with a giant bowl of popcorn in one hand and a smaller one in the other. “All right, Gabs. You want to do popcorn or paper chains?”

“Which one is the elf doing?”

Steve looks at Bucky as he sits on the couch between Bucky and Gabby. Bucky shrugs. “Uh, popcorn?”

“Paper chains,” she says even before Bucky’s finished speaking.

“Okay.” Steve gets up again and takes a box of cut up strips of red, green, and white paper off the counter. He sets it out on the table before grabbing the glue. “Table for you. Try not to glue yourself to anything. I don’t want to explain to your dad why he’s now got a daughter _and_ a table.”

She rolls her eyes. “Uncle Steve, you’re silly.”

“I’m just warning you.”

She shakes her head and goes to the table, climbing up on a chair. Steve comes back to the couch, settling back beside Bucky. He settles the big bowl between them, setting the small one on the middle cardboard box. “That one’s for snacking.”

Bucky immediately grabs a handful and eats it. “Curb the urge.”

Steve smiles, and Bucky wants to bask in it. “Uh-huh.”

He sticks his tongue out at Steve. Shaking his head, Steve grabs needles and thread off the table so he and Bucky can get started. _Home Alone_ is still playing, and it’s nice background noise. Once it’s over, Steve gets up and _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ starts.

“Best Christmas music ever,” Bucky tells him as Steve settles back on the couch. Grabbing a handful of popcorn from the large bowl, he shoves the fistful into his mouth. Steve gasps and stares at him, wide-eyed and betrayed.

“That is _not_ the popcorn for eating.”

Bucky takes a piece out of the bowl and very slowly brings it to his lips. His pulse is pounding as Steve’s eyes follow the movement. 

Steve licks his lips. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that. ”

Bucky waggles his eyebrows, grabs another piece and brings it to Steve’s mouth. “Am I though?”

Before Steve can do or say anything, Gabby’s voice makes him jerk back. “Uncle Steve, I need help.”

There’s a blush high on the apples of Steve’s cheeks and he ducks his head, breaking Bucky’s gaze. “Okay. On my way.”

While Steve walks over to the table, Gabby glares at Bucky. He’s about to return the stare when he realizes she’s six years old, and he’s an adult, and even if he’s getting cock-blocked by her, _she’s six years old and he’s an adult_. He turns back to the popcorn with singular focus, but he can practically feel Gabby’s smug smile.

After a while, Steve changes the DVD to Rudolph, and then again to _The Year Without a Santa Claus_. He realizes the chatter at the table has gone quiet, and when he looks over, Steve’s walking out of his bedroom, and Gabby’s gone.

“Fell asleep. Right in the glue.” He sits next to Bucky on the couch. “Thanks for helping tonight.”

“No problem.” It takes everything he has not to lean into Steve, and what the fuck is wrong with him? “Did you ever notice how much of a dick Santa is in these? First he’s prejudiced against Rudolph for being different, and pretty much encourages the rest of the reindeer to be dicks to him. And then in this one he feels underappreciated and so he just decides to call off Christmas. Seriously, for a jolly fellow, he’s kind of an entitled asshole.”

“Well, I imagine you would know.” He picks up Bucky’s giant string of popcorn. “Wow.”

“I'm an expert popcorn stringer.”

“Is he really a pedophile?”

Bucky chokes and then whips his head to the side to look at Steve. “What?”

“Santa. I mean, in _Santa Claus is Coming to Town_ , he sits on the fountain and tells the kids, ‘if you sit on my lap today, a kiss a toy is the price you pay’. That’s not right.”

“Oh my god.” Bucky starts laughing. “I cannot believe you just said that.”

“What? It’s true!” Steve’s fighting a smile. “Tell me it’s not. And in _The Little Drummer Boy_? He’s a straight up angry asshole. Pretty much the only safe Christmas movie is _A Muppet Christmas Carol_. Scrooge is _supposed_ to be a dick.”

“I don’t know. Guy’s pretty obsessed with Tiny Tim.” He leans in closer to Steve. “By the way, you’re straight up defiling my childhood.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something, then stops, blushing darkly. Bucky reaches out and traces his thumb over Steve’s lower lip. Want is pooling in his stomach and Steve’s eyes are dark as he looks at him. Finally Steve manages to clear his throat, opening his mouth again.

“Uncle Steve!”

Steve takes a deep breath and pulls back. “Yeah, Gabby. I’m just out in the living room.”

“I had a nightmare!”

He hangs his head. “I have to…”

“Yeah. I should go.” Bucky stands up and when Steve does the same, they’re close together. “She doesn’t like someone else having your attention.”

“She misses her dad.”

“Uncle _Steve_!”

“I’ll let myself out. Goodnight, Steve.”

*

Bucky takes a shower as soon as he gets home, and even though he tells himself he’s not going to, he _does_ sleep naked, and he can’t help imagining what might have happened if Gabby hadn’t been there. 

And he has a very good imagination.

But then he doesn’t see Steve or Gabby or pretty much anyone but snot-nosed kids out in the cold begging for Christmas trees and hot cocoa and to go home because they’re cold, and harried parents of said kids. He nets trees and loads them, helping a few people tie them down onto their roofs even though they’re not supposed to for liability reasons. When Maria confronts him, he just tells her he was overwhelmed by the Christmas spirit.

Which means he gets taken off the hot chocolate and warm station duty rotation. He curses her up one side and down the other, but Clint and Natasha manage to slip him some of their shifts in there, so he only ends up with a horrible cold instead of pneumonia or worse.

Christmas Eve ends at seven at night so that the people who decorate that night have a chance to buy a tree. They’re not always the best ones, but Bucky doesn’t understand the tradition, so he doesn’t feel too sorry for them. Christmas starts the day after Thanksgiving as far as he’s concerned, otherwise there’s not enough time to enjoy it.

Not that he’s had enough time to enjoy it.

He walks into the apartment building and sneezes four times in rapid succession at the change in temperature.

“Have you guys ever thought about starting a union?”

Bucky looks up and rather than going to his mailbox, he leans on the banister of the stairs and looks up at Steve. “Christmas-tree sellers?”

“Elves.”

He flips Steve off. “I’m officially retir-elfed.” He yawns. “What are you up to?”

Steve pats something beside him on the landing, so Bucky moves a few steps up the stairs to see. It’s a gorgeous straight-backed chair, with twisted and sculpted bars on the back. 

“Wow.” He remembers that Steve’s a carpenter. Well, he pretends to remember, which is really just him pretending that he’s forgotten. “You made that?”

Steve gets a little blush on his cheeks and shrugs. “It’s a Christmas present, but if I take it over to Tony’s tonight, he’ll spoil the surprise by telling Rhodey, so I’ve got them at my place. Borrowing a friend’s truck for transport.”

“You need help?”

“Oh, sure. You show up when the first five are upstairs already.”

“Well, had I been _invited_ to the party, I might have shown up sooner.” He leans against the wall and smiles at Steve. He’s ridiculously glad to see him. He’s dressed in a   
T-shirt that leaves little to Bucky’s imagination and jeans that are worn and faded. He’s not sure if it’s the cold medicine he’s on or what, but he kind of wants to lean in and lick him.

“I’ve managed this far, I guess I can make it the rest of the way without you. But if you want to follow me up and come in for some eggnog or something, I guess I’d be okay with that.”

“I’m going to change first, if that’s okay.”

“I suppose.” He lifts the chair and Bucky follows him up the four-and-a-half flights of stairs. And stares at his ass, because holy shit. He’d pretty much decided that Steve’s ass was perfection, but seeing it in motion is a life-altering experience. It’s even good walking down the hall. “I’ll leave the door open. Just come on in.”

Bucky nods and hurries home, showering off the smell of pine and the sap on his wrists where it wormed its way between his gloves and his coat sleeve. Of course he hasn’t done laundry, so he has no clean jeans to change into, so he slips on the same sweats he’d worn the night they had dinner. 

Apparently Steve had a similar idea, because when Bucky walks in, he’s wearing a pair of sweat pants that cling to his ass and thighs where he’s bent over and looking over the chair. Bucky must make a sound because Steve straightens and turns to smile at him. 

“I realize you hadn’t seen your handiwork in action.” He gestures toward the tree, which is lit with frosted white lights, colorful with paper chains and strung with the popcorn that’s somehow shiny. “I sprayed clear paint on the popcorn. Makes it catch the light.”

“It looks great, but the gods of consumerism are cursing your name.” He walks over and frowns. “No presents?”

“Most of them are over at Tony’s already. He’s got the biggest place, and since I don’t have a family, they all take pity on me and just have one big Christmas with his family, Rhodey’s family, and orphaned me. And there is a present.”

“Where?” 

Steve walks over and takes a small wrapped present from the tree, handing it over. Bucky looks at it, eyes widening when he sees his name on the tag. “What the fuck? What is this?”

“Open it.”

“No. No! This is totally unfair and against the rules. Fuck off.” He still tears the paper off. It’s a small wooden block about a half-inch thick. It has “SR” carved onto it, and when Bucky turns it over, he has to laugh. “Bucky Barnes. Number One Elf. You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah. Pretty much. Eggnog?”

“Yeah. No.” Bucky shakes his head and grabs Steve’s T-shirt, tugging him closer. “I have to say thank you first. It’s only polite, and it’s not too late to end up on the naughty list.”

“So you’re not thinking about doing anything naughty?”

He smiles and tugs Steve even closer, brushing a soft kiss across his lips. “I don’t think I ever said that.”


End file.
